


When in Malta

by SauceBoss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable Jack Kline, Angry Dean Winchester, Canon Divergence, Case Fic, Consensual Kissing, Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Jealous Jack Kline, Loss of Control, M/M, Malta (Country), Mary Ships It, Non-Consensual Kissing, Oblivious Castiel, One Big Happy Family, Original Character Death(s), Possession, Post-Season/Series 13, Slow Burn, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Vacation, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 20:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14089257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SauceBoss/pseuds/SauceBoss
Summary: When Father Lucca Camilleri calls Sam and Dean 6 months after the whole skull of St. Peter fiasco, a run of the mill spirit in the monastery turns into a Winchester family vacation/hunting trip. But as the boys and Mary try to catch some rays and a couple of waves, a simple salt and burn turns into something much more deadly and hidden emotions are laid bare for the family fallout. They're left to pick up the pieces all while trying to save the next victim from a ghostly fate.





	When in Malta

**Author's Note:**

> This was started right after I finished episode 13x15, so idk how exactly they got Mary and Jack out or how they defeated Micheal/Lucifer/Asmodeus. I'm probably not really going to touch the topic at all. I'm sure this fic will be completely divergent by the time season 14 rolls around, or the end of season 13 for that matter. Maybe I'll add details in as they appear in the show. Who knows? Not me. No beta so please let me know if I missed a typo or something doesn't make sense. ANYWAY! Hope you enjoy this first chapter! Oh yea, btw, it's my first fanfic, heh. *nervous laugh* Ok, bye~

The moment Sam’s phone starting vibrating where it sat on the kitchen table, Dean had just finished stuffing half a pancake and two bacon strips into his mouth. Turning around in his chair, he saw Sam up to his elbows in suds at the sink and spoke around the half a plate of food in his mouth, “Eh Fahver Haminery,” while holding out the phone toward his brother. 

“Who?” Sam said over his shoulder, eyebrows knitted together slightly; probably both from the incomprehensible gibberish Dean just spouted and from the bits of breakfast currently stuck to his brother’s chin. Dean only repeated the name, but without swallowing any food, the pronunciation wasn’t any more distinguishable the second time. Sam gave an exasperated sigh and held up his soapy hands for Dean to see. With a put upon eye roll, Dean accepted the call and put in on speaker for Sam to answer while drying off his hands. “Hello?”

“Hello, Sam? This is Lucca Camilleri.”

“Oh, Father Camilleri. Nice to hear from you again.” Stepping away from the sink, Sam glanced briefly to Dean then took a seat at the table, giving the conversation his undivided attention. “Is everything alright? Are you having problems again with the skull of St. Peter?”

“No, no. St. Peter is snug in his home at the monastery with the sisters looking quite closely after him. Everybody was so grateful to have him back. I could never repay you both for how you helped us back then.” There was a heavy pause then, and the brothers waited patiently for Father Camilleri to go on and say what was obviously troubling him. Finally, he went on, “It seems almost discourteous to come to you now asking for help once again, but you two are the only ones I could think of who may be able to save my people.”

“Don’t sweat it, Padre. Saving people’s what we do.” Dean said, now that his mouth was clear. “What kinda problem we talking about?” 

Before the Father could answer, Sam said, “Hold on. You said ‘save my people’. Are you saying people have died?”

The brothers could hear the priest take a shaky breath and when he spoke again it was not without strain. “Three. Three from my congregation have been killed in the past month. Their deaths gruesome and hideous and unimaginable. One was a nun, young and cheery with the gentlest of souls. The other two were a newly married couple, recently moved here and attending mass regularly only for about 6 months. All were kindhearted, thoughtful, and charitable. None could have-…None deserved-…” 

The boys, much too familiar with the sting of the death of someone you cared for, could only offer a generic but not ingenuine, “I’m sorry for your loss, Father.”

With a steadier voice now, Father Camilleri continued on, “The police here say they are unrelated suicides, all wounds self-inflicted, although no one has been able to figure out why yet. I, however, fear it something far worse. Something evil that will not be stopped by regular forces alone.”

“And what makes you say that?” Dean asked.

“The days before each of the deaths occurred, the victims were all acting very strangely. Out of character and violent in some cases. There is a feeling I have that these deaths were not unrelated and that there is a supernatural driving force behind them. Call it a priest’s intuition. And I believe that more of my congregation will die if this force is not extinguished.”

“Self-inflicted wounds? Could be demonic possession.” Sam mused.

“Or a spirit,” came a voice from the doorway. Sam and Dean turned to see Castiel walking in with hair looking a little morning rumpled and wearing his usual garb, at least sans trenchcoat.

“Could be. If it were powerful enough,” replied Dean, already returning to the rest of his breakfast. 

“Have you noticed anything strange happening around the monastery. Maybe some weird smells like sulfur or felt any cold spots?” Cas continued.

“Weird smells, no. But now that you mention it, there have been oddly cold areas around. I first thought they were perhaps drafts, as old buildings tend to have, but they have grown increasingly more frequent as of late. And other odd things, like a lamp I am sure I have turned off suddenly turning itself back on again, or things falling over when no force has pushed them.” 

“Fits the bill of a ghost most likely.” said Sam.

Over the phone, Father Camilleri inquired who the fourth person was who had joined the conversation. “That’s our friend Cas. I guess he knows a thing or two about this kinda stuff too.” said Dean

“Oh! Do you save people from the supernatural as well?” 

Castiel, after landing Dean with an unimpressed look over his comment, replied, “Yes, I work with Sam and Dean sometimes on cases like this.”

“Ah, thank you God. There are three of you to come and save my people. Three is a holy number, you know. Such a blessing. Aye, but I have not even let you answer whether or not you would be able to help. My apologies.” 

The brothers locked eyes, Sam’s silently pleading and Dean’s hard and accompanied by a vigorous head shake. 

“Well uh, we don’t usually travel out of the states for cases, Padre. Maybe we can try to hook you up with a local hunter to check things out.”

With felt but unspoken disappointment, the priest said, “Ah…I see. Of course. I should have been more considerate. Any way you can provide aid is more than enough.”

“Father, would you hold on for just a few minutes.” Sam said before Dean could say anything back. Placing the man on hold, Sam turned to his brother, “Dean, come on. This is Father Camilleri we’re talking about. If it weren’t for him, we never would have been able to open a rift to get mom and Jack back from that other universe. The man thinks he’s in debt to us, but it’s the exact opposite.”

“Look, I’m not saying we don’t help the guy. It’s probably a simple salt and burn. Somebody living in that boot outta be able to handle something as simple as that.”

“Dean, we don’t have any European contacts besides the British Shitheads of Letters. We don’t even know who took over the head of operations after Hess, and even if we did, I know none of us want anything to do with them. Establishing a connection while avoiding the Men of Letters will take time and another attack in Father Camilleri’s congregation could happen before we even get someone local out there.”

“Alright, alright! Sheesh, calm down already.”

“Is it because of your fear of flying by plane?” This time it was Cas who spoke up.

“What? No. Look, I said alright already.”

“If I sat next to you on the plane, I could place you into a relaxed state to alleviate any discomfort you may have during the trip.”

“You gonna drug me with your angel mojo, Cas? Thanks, but no thanks. Come on guys, flying may not be my favorite thing in the world, but I’m a big boy now. I can handle it.” Dean threw in a wink for good measure. Cas and Sam only appeared doubtful. Scoffing, Dean added, “ ‘sides, maybe I can find someone to join the mile high club with while I’m up there. That outta put me into a relaxed state, don’t ya think?”

“I think you’d better hope they don’t serve food on the plane. You might scare everyone into jumping off with your atrocious eating habits.” Cas countered while throwing a napkin at Dean’s face, which had a dab of syrup slowly dripping down onto his shirt.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll buy the plane tickets today and Dean can continue pretending he’s not afraid of heights.” Sam said with a smirk. Dean, unable to defend himself after just shoveling the last of the food on his plate into his mouth, at least had the availability of one hand to gesture to his brother with. 

“He gets that from John. Not that he would have ever admitted it. Why do you think he was so fond of traveling by Baby, even super long distances where driving became more trouble than it was worth?” Mary said, as she stepped into the kitchen taking a swing from a water bottle, Jack just a step behind her, a usual sight as of late. Both were in workout clothes, with damp hair plastered to their forehead and neck from their morning jog. 

Dean looked back to the open kitchen door behind them, as if expecting someone else to walk in at any moment. “Really? What’s with the timing of these entrances? Do you guys wait behind the corner for the perfect moment to jump in?” 

Meanwhile, Sam was already taking Father Camilleri off of hold. “Father? Still there?”

“Sam. Yes, I was just saying some prayers that God would guide us through these trials. Were you able to reach a decision? I have a paper and pen ready if you need to list to me a contact name and number.”

“I’m sorry, Father, but we don’t have any contacts in your area.”

“Oh. I…I understand,” the most holy man sounded like he was about to break down in tears. 

Sam hurriedly added, “But we’ll do you one better. We’ll head over there and deal with this case personally.”

“Really? Ah, Glory to God! Three saviors coming to my congregation. I knew that God would provide. More than I could have hoped for. I hope that Malta treats you warmly upon your welcome.”

“Malta? As in, the one in the Mediterranean? Count me in. A case and some time on the beach? That’s exactly what I didn’t know I was missing.” said Mary, already moving back toward the hallway, presumably to go shower. 

“Sounds fun!” Jack added with a thumbs up and telekinetically sending the last strip of bacon from the table flying into his hands. The strip Dean had been reaching for at that very moment. With a vengeful gaze, Dean started to stand from his chair, but before he could even take a step toward Jack, the Nephilim had already shoved the piece into his mouth and poofed out of the room with the powers he was getting better at controlling every day.

Sam watched as Dean complained to Cas about how Jack was being a brat and that just because the kid was powerful, didn’t mean he could start showing off. “Actually Father Camilleri, looks like this just turned into a Winchester family hunting trip.” Then with a fond smile, Sam added, “Hope you’re ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> The original idea for this piece went from fluff to slowburn case fic all during the course of one stinking chapter. So I've been dragged along for the ride just as much as y'all. I'll do my best not to disappoint. Also, I will address how Father Camilleri knows about how Sam and Dean are hunters, probably in the next chapter.  
> Thank you for reading~


End file.
